After our last sojourn to the exotic East, the intrepid Halve Mein Hashers headed for run 58 in the Wild West of Amsterdam. Despite the hares’ argument that we were on the safe side of the river (does this mean as many guns but less pointed at you?), only a hard core of 5 hounds and one 4 legged hound joined our hares Francis and Galloping Gallumpkies on as gorgeous a fall day as could be imagined. Hey, even Amsterdam looked (almost) attractive.

Our route began with a quick clothing check on a bridge over the NY Thruway, then Dirtbag (suffering déjà vu from the last run out this way) was so convinced he knew where he was going that he ran straight past a true trail arrow pointing uphill. After leading most of the pack that way he lost trail and retreated up the hill. To find the trail went down the hill again and back the way the pack had been. In the end a very effective circle jerk from the hares.

From here the pack found the Mohawk bike path, climbed away from the river, zigzagged around with enough confusion to keep our walkers Bodsa and Laurel and Hardly Running close by then cut steeply down through woods with leader Dirtbag in full flight. Finding a stream the pack divided into the “what the hell I don’t mind wet feet”, “I’m going to cross carefully and keep dry” and “I’m not going near that water” (LaHR) brigades; but after LaHR was finally persuaded over the pack reunited for a half hearted song, the thought of “how much further to beer” and a return to city streets.

More meandering down near the river brought the pack to a small bridge with the holy mantra written upon it: “beer near”. At last. Desperate thirsty hounds then scoured the surrounding area for beer, before our hares were finally spotted in a nearby parking lot. Thirst was quenched and the hash retreated to the beautiful environs on Galloping Gallumpkies’ farm for a circle and food. En route a stop was made to pick up the beer from the beer check that had been missed, hares blaming hounds for the criminal act of ignoring beer while hounds accused hares of poor trail marking.

No surprises in the FRB and DAL awards (Dirtbag and Bodsa) but some argument ensued over the coveted Hash Shit award, Francis finally receiving the accolade despite competition from Bodsa and Dirtbag. After the circle was complete the group partook of favorite hash activities, including eating meat, drinking beer, eating more meat, riding large beasts, drinking more beer, chasing pussy, getting hold of some big ones, pumpkins of course, burning stuff and leaping into the pond. With Astro Homo missing, however, the final pursuit was only undertaken by our 4 legged members.

Thanks to our hares and sorry the pack was so thin on the ground. We want to see more of you wankers at the Halloween run on 11/1!